


Layers

by kate_the_reader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Betting, Clothes Porn, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: When Arthur and Eames agree to play strip poker with a bored Ariadne and Cobb, they may have another motive.





	Layers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreaminghigher (regencyaus)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/regencyaus/gifts).



> An Eames Stupid Cupid gift for dreaminghigher, who asked for poker/betting. With my unashamed thing for Arthur's clothes, I could not resist. Hope you like it, it was fun to write.
> 
> Thank you to CoffeewithConsequences for the beta.

“I’m bored!” Ari flops dramatically on the threadbare sofa previous tenants left in the loft. “Cobb! Cobb! This job is booooring.”

“Hey! Don’t blame me, I’m not the one still doing deep dive research.” Cobb looks over at Arthur, who is so immersed in what he’s doing he doesn’t even react. But Cobb’s grinning anyway.

“Oi! Leave Arthur be,” says Eames, coming in from wherever he’s been. He puts a cup of coffee on Arthur’s desk as he passes. Arthur leans back and stretches, reaches for the coffee and sighs as he takes his first sip. Ari’s still mock glaring at Cobb, so she doesn’t see the look Arthur gives Eames over the rim of the takeout cup. 

“What can we do to relieve your ennui?” 

“Ennui, Eames? Oh my god!” Ari throws the balled-up bag her lunchtime sandwich was wrapped in at Eames’ head. “I don’t know … oh wait! You play poker, don’t you?”

“I’ve been known to dabble.”

Arthur hides his snort in his cup reasonably well.

“I didn’t know you played, Ariadne.” Cobb is already dragging a table over.

“Oh yes,” she says, “You can’t go to school with so many guys and not pick it up.”

“Hang on,” says Eames. “I don’t have a deck of cards. Do any of you?”

Arthur reaches into his bag and wordlessly produces a deck. Cobb’s too busy setting up the chairs to notice the way Eames’ fingers linger on Arthur’s as he takes the cards from him.

Eames shuffles the cards expertly, not looking at his hands.

“Three’s too few,” he says. “You’ll have to play too, Arthur.”

“Yes, Arthur, you too,” Ari agrees.

Arthur turns from his desk. “I thought my slowness was the reason you’re so booooored in the first place?”

“I’ll help you later,” she says.

He raises an eyebrow and avoids Eames’ eye. “Okay. I’m no expert, but, you know, I’ve also dabbled.”

“We need beer,” says Ari. “I’ll go buy beer. They don’t card me here.”

“Bulgaria has its advantages,” Eames says, bone dry.

“Get chips as well,” Cobb calls after her.

Eames is leaning against Arthur’s desk, whistling tunelessly and continuing to shuffle the cards.

By the time Ari gets back with the beer and chips, dusk is falling and the loft is dim. Cobb brings over a standard lamp. It casts an intimate glow over the table. 

“Right,” says Eames, sitting down. “Five-card stud okay for everyone?”

“Sure,” says Ari, handing out beers and ripping open the bags of chips.

“Fine,” Cobb agrees.

Arthur takes his seat across from Eames, who narrows his eyes slightly, but then concentrates on dealing. 

“What are we going to use for chips?” says Cobb, taking a long drink of his beer.

“I only have the one,” says Eames. “Matches will have to do.”

“Or we could play strip poker,” says Ari.

“I don’t think—” Cobb starts, but Eames cuts him off.

“Sure, why not?” Looking straight at Arthur. “I’m game.”

Arthur shrugs and adjusts his cuffs. “Fine by me,” he says.

***

After a few hands, Cobb is barefoot and shirtless, Ari has taken off her boots and socks, and Arthur his tie. Eames is fully clothed.

“Keep going?” Eames opens another beer and looks round the table. 

“Sure, I’m not out of chips yet,” says Arthur.

Cobb scratches his shoulder. “I guess,” he says.

Ari twirls her scarf.

She soon has to take it off. But by then Cobb’s down to his briefs. He squints at Eames. “I hope you’re being straight with us, Eames.”

Arthur can’t disguise his snort this time.

“Completely,” says Eames, grinning. “I may lie and cheat professionally, but never at cards with friends. I told you I dabble.”

Arthur is laughing outright now. He’s lost his jacket.

“Well, I’m out, I think,” says Cobb, standing up, taking his pants and shirt with him to the bathroom. By the time he comes back to put on his shoes, Ari has taken off her jeans and Arthur has one shoe off. Eames is fully clothed.

“Keep playing?” he asks Ari.

“Sure, I’ve got a couple more chips.” She reaches for the bag, but it’s empty. “Damn. At least there’s more beer.” 

A few hands later, she stands up in her bra and pants. She’s taken off her shirt and the camisole that revealed. “I guess I’m out of chips now.”

Arthur is barefoot. Eames is fully clothed.

Ari hops a bit as she puts her jeans back on. Cobb is asleep on the sofa. She pokes him when she sits down to put on her boots. “Cobb! Cobb! Share a taxi?”

He opens his eyes, impressively alert, but then, they’re used to waking up. “Since we’re all in the same hotel …”

“Oh, you go on,” says Arthur, “I’ve got a job to finish.”

“I’ll straighten up here,” says Eames, catching Arthur’s eye.

“You sure?” says Cobb, but he’s already putting on the jacket he no doubt wishes he had been wearing when they started the game. “Okay.”

“Bye!” Ari waves over her head as she walks to the door, impressively steady.

Eames doesn’t move until the sound of their footsteps on the stairs dies away. Then he stands up. Arthur pushes his chair away from the table and leans back.

“You are far too bloody good at poker, darling,” says Eames, coming to stand close, in the vee of his sprawling thighs. 

“Sorry,” says Arthur, laughing up at him. “Guess I’m just lucky I have—”

“Layers,” says Eames, his hands on Arthur’s waistcoat buttons.

“Yes,” says Arthur, “layers.”

“Complexity,” says Eames, easing the waistcoat off his shoulders.

“Mmm, complexity.” Arthur shrugs out of the garment.

“Depth.” Eames’ hands are at Arthur’s belt buckle.

“Depth.” Arthur’s voice has gone a bit rough as Eames pulls the belt from its loops.

Eames crouches down. “Secrets.” His blunt fingers undo the button.

“Not from you.” Arthur lifts his ass so Eames can pull his trousers down.

“Not from me.” Eames opens Arthur’s shirt, careful of the small buttons. “Not from me.” He leaves it on, nudges the two fronts aside with his nose. “Not from— His teeth fasten delicately on a nipple. 

Arthur pushes his hand through Eames’ hair, inhales sharply as Eames kisses his way down his chest, rubs his stubbled cheek across his stomach, dips his fingers into the waistband of his briefs. “Not from … fuck Eames.”

Eames tips his head back. “Not here, darling.”

Arthur sighs, mock exasperated. “But now you’ve got me nearly naked and—”

“Ready?”

Arthur bites his lip as he holds Eames’ gaze. Then his tongue darts out. “Eager.”

“Mmmm, well then …” Eames drops his face back to Arthur’s crotch. The head of Arthur’s hard cock is peeking from the top of his briefs. Eames pulls them down further, and it springs free. He wraps his hand around it and smiles fondly. And licks from base to tip. And wraps his lips round the head. Arthur’s hand is back in Eames’ hair and he tugs on it. His breath is shallow. Eames hums, Arthur tugs harder and moans softly. Eames knows just how to give Arthur the most pleasure in the shortest time. After all, there’s more to come.

Arthur is sprawled bonelessly in the chair when Eames leans back. “Shall we go, darling?”

“Mmmf.” Eames smiles as Arthur looks at him with hooded eyes.

“Shall I get you dressed again?” He reaches for Arthur’s trousers, cast aside on the floor, and brushes them off with the side of his hand. “Here you go,” he says, picking up each of Arthur’s feet and placing them in the pant legs. His hands caress Arthur’s skin as he pulls them up. Arthur lifts his ass obligingly. Eames rebuttons his shirt, tucks it in. Carefully rethreads the belt. He picks up Arthur’s waistcoat, and Arthur nods, taking it from Eames and slipping it on. 

Eames reaches under the table for Arthur’s shoes and socks, and puts them back on, cradling his feet.

Arthur stands up, pulling his shirt straighter, and offers Eames his hand.

They walk out, Eames with Arthur’s jacket hooked over his shoulder. As they wait for a taxi, Arthur says: “Do you think that was fair to Ari and Cobb?”

“Maybe not. But I got what I wanted.”

Arthur turns to him and laughs. “I’ll let you have that anytime, you know.”

“Oh, I do. Sometimes it’s fun to play for it, though.”

“My turn back at the hotel,” says Arthur, “You’re still wearing way too many clothes.”

Eames looks down at himself, at his loose comfortable shirt and trousers. “Only a shirt and trousers!”

“Yes. Too many.”

***

It’s amazing how slowly Arthur can remove a shirt and a pair of trousers, shoes and socks.

Eames is begging by the time he’s naked. 

Arthur strips off in seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> If Eames as a poker player interests you, stay tuned for my Inception Reverse Bang fic, coming on February 21.


End file.
